Edward in the City
by Happyaslarry
Summary: Most stories have some angst-ridden teen searching out Edward and becoming friendsfalling in love with him. I have Edward leaving town and going to the city..maybe becoming well-adjusted...
1. Default Chapter

Edward Scissorhands story

"Hi. My name is Edward and I used to live in a castle by myself. You all know the story: Boy comes down into village, boy falls for girl, boy kills girl's former boyfriend, then gets chased out of town. For a while I went back to my castle, but that became boring. Before I went down, I had been used to spending large amounts of time with myself, but after I knew what was out there, I couldn't stand the lonliness. One night I took a few of the pictures I had of hands and Kim and left the castle, village and everything I knew behind.

"I walked all the way into the city, about 50 miles, I think. No one would stop for me, obviously. There were streams and plants along the way, and I was used to not eating much, so I made it in about a week. Fortunatly, the people in the city I came to thought it was perfectly normal to walk around in a full-body leather suit and I think most people thought my hand were some sort of fashion statement.

"I knew no family would take me in, and I didn't want a repeat of the past, so I looked for a 'job', something most men in the village claimed to have. I looked for a place with bushes in the windows, thinking I could help out there. Luckily I found a salon after about three hours of walking that didn't want to hire me. But, I demonstrated my 'talents' on the receptionist and she agreed to let me have an interview with the manager when he came back from his lunch break. I thought this was odd, because it was around two in the afternoon, but I sat down and waited anyway. The manager came back in about two hours, saw the receptionist's haircut and hired me. He had one condition, though. I had to get a hair cut. I was nervous, I admit, but it turned out pretty good. It was still spiky and weird, but less poofy. The manager, seeing that I had no place to sleep, lent me the room upstairs from the salon (which was included in the rent, for some odd reason. Whenever the manager tried to talk to the landlord about not renting the room, he paid more that month. After awhile, the manager left it alone.) The manger, who's name was Tom, also quietly slipped me the name of a good plastic surgeon. On the back of the card was the note, 'for when you earn enough in tips.'

"Fast forward three years. I'm still working in the salon, but I haven't earned enough for the hands. I went to the plastic surgeon the day after Tom slipped me that card and was told the procedure would cost five thousand dollars. So far, I had earned three thousand working in the salon and a landscaping company on weekends. I was still living in the upstairs room, but I had to help out on the rent. On the romance front, there was nothing. Although some of my regulars seemed interested, I wasn't. Not that there was anything wrong with them, I was just self-concious about my 'hands.' Tom helped my in this department by spreading a rumor that I was gay. It helped, because I was no longer uncomfortable around the interested customers. I was also in regular counseling, for the years in isolation that I went through and the severe culture shock when I came down. Dr. Mitchell said I was making great strides and I should be well adjusted once I got my hand fixed. Athough I was spending a lot of my money on the rent, counseling, food, and saving for my hands, I managed to buy some clothes. Mostly jeans and button up shirts for the salon, and some t-shirts for the weekends. They were surprisingly not full of holes because the kindly receptionist (who was about 60 by now) came in early to help me get dressed.


	2. Chapter Two

Edward in the City.

Chapter Two

A/N. Kim might come in this chapter. Or maybe the next one, I'm not sure. But I like to keep you guys on tenterhooks.

REVIEW PLEASE. Or I might not post the next chapter. The one that might have Kim in it.

"God, the city. It was so... different. All I had known were small, tight knit communities. Then, when I got into the city, there were so many people who didn't care about you. I wasn't used to that. I had cared for myself in the castle, and the inventor had cared about me. Even in the village, people cared. Some people cared enough to run me out of town. It was refreshing, sometimes, being able to do what you wanted. I could go around naked if I wanted. I could scream, I could do anything without the burden of a 'mother' coming to see if I was alright. And I loved every second that I was there.

"Every day I looked forward to my job(s.) People loved me. My hairstyles became the new thing in the city. All the women wanted to have their hair wild and different. I just cut a few pieces here, a couple chunks there, and it was a sensation. I mean, I cared how the hair turned out, but it wasn't a big deal if it didn't turn out the way I wanted. The style was to have it uneven. I didn't work every weekend at the landscaping company, I only came in for the very rich customers. Again, the bushes weren't that important, they were just a way of expressing myself. I saw each bush not as a bush, but as a really hairy person. I put what was in my head onto the bush. And if it didn't come out alright, I called it 'modern art.' People gobbled it up, and the landscaping company made a huge profit.

"At the salon, there were never many slow day, because of my new celebrity, but we managed to exchange banter and small talk when we were cutting hair. I remember, one day, I was cutting the hair of some twentysomething woman and Tom, next to me, was watching the cut. Seeing the expression on my face when I made a cut I didn't like he said, 'But I saw something exactly like that on Main street yesterday!' He was teasing me about my 'technique', or lack of it.

"The days passed pleasantly, never quite the same, but with an element of routine in them. Eventually, I got my hands. You would expect that I would feel free and different, and that maybe I would lose my gift for cutting bushes and hair, but no. The scissors that I used now felt like my hands and I had the same degree of control with them. The main difference in my life was being able to get dressed by myself. God, was that a relief. I also got a girlfriend.

"She was about 25 and her name was Lesley. People told me I looked around 25 as well, so age wasn't a big deal. We met when she started to work at the salon. The old receptionist died. We all went to her funeral and cried. Then Lesley came to work with us. She was about 5' 7" and had the longest hair you can imagine. It was a chocolate brown color usually held back in a bun, except for the weekends. We went dancing on the weekends, Tom, Lesley, Shelia (the other hairdresser) and me. I learned to dance, unwillingly. But I got the hang of it, after making a fool of my self on countless occasions and I actually enjoyed dancing with Lesley. We felt bad for Shelia, since Tom was gay, she had no one to dace with. She found someone, after awhile, and so did Tom. Our dancing group eventually included eight people. Tom and Sheila's boyfriends and two of Lesley's friends came with us.

"For all you sickos out there, yes, Lesley and I did have sex. She laughed at me, jokingly, when I told her that I was a virgin. She thought I was joking. After awhile, Lesley moved in with me upstairs. She helped me decorate it, too. It used to be white with a couple pieces of furniture and a t.v. Then, she painted it, bought me a chair, couch and bed and brought all her stuff over.


End file.
